


Sekiro deleted scene: Duel Atop Ashina Castle

by orphan_account



Category: Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crack, Gen, Mostly Canon Compliant, No Spoilers, inspired by that one omake from FMAB, you know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21568213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: this was a scrapped scene of that duel between hobo manlet ninja and zombie pikachu man, 100% confirmed; Miyazaki said sothis is not funny
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Sekiro deleted scene: Duel Atop Ashina Castle

**Author's Note:**

> i might have gotten overboard with the descriptions of violence and im not about to apologize, make ur own cracky sekiro if ur pressed about it. that's right, come at my dms with your mains, _cowards_
> 
> wrote this along with Aviator's remake of his first album and gotta say, felt way too epic for the monstrosity that ive made here with my own fat palms and stubby fingers

"My lord, I have come for you."

The timing? Poetic. Genichiro would smile if the situation was appropriate for it. The soft thump of a body landing feet-first to the wooden floors, intentionally audible. It sent chills down his back.

It’s only appropriate then that he turned to face his opponent properly.

This small man, made of broken spirit and false bone, had the sheer audacity to face him down. He thought him discarded, once, tossed down a well to be forgotten as he bargained away with his young Lord. Clearly, it was a mistake to underestimate him.

Not now.

“This… will only take a moment.”

Politeness? Propriety? Or was the shinobi arrogant as he took his stance? With that white mark to his face… well, who wouldn’t be arrogant with the power of immortality by one’s side?

So be it then

“I see,” Genichiro responded in kind, if such a statement could be called a response of any sort. “For as long as you are alive, the dragon’s blood can never be mine.”

Yes. He will cut it out and bleed it from his flesh, if need be, for Ashina’s sake.

Genichiro readied his blade. “Face me!” he declared; of course, the man gave no answer, appropriate for silent shinobis.

They met in a clash of steel against steel, with the lord muttering under his breath, effortlessly of course, “Shinobi, I didn’t think I’d see you again.” The man made a grimace of some sort and stepped back. Genichiro had only a moment of recognition for the pebbles of red on the ground before the crackled and fired. Smoke poured into his eyes as he stepped back; the sound of a blade cutting quickly through air was his only hint for an attack, and he instinctively blocked.

No, he can’t back away this early! He stopped forward boldly and laid out his own attacks as well, some connecting with the Shinobi but most getting deflected; he can feel the sword in his hand resonating, vibrating up his arms as a needless distraction.

Too soon, he was met with the tip of the shinobi’s sword digging into his chest, and he grunted as he shoved both offending blade and man away, staggering back. He can feel the blood filling his lungs, but he can also feel a greater power striving to repair what the shinobi has torn away…

He can still do this. “I’m not finished with you yet, Shinobi of the Divine Heir!”

Of course, he stayed silent, and save for his grunts as they danced around each other, he was irritatingly quiet. The shinobi leapt out quite a bit away, heaving in breaths hard, cuts and stabs and arrow wounds littering his skin and penetrating through his armor and clothing. He took out a gourd of some sort, as if to…

This is his chance!

Genichiro took his bow in hand and quickly nocked an arrow, drew it back, and fired. It connected! And another! And a third!

He went down after the onslaught of Genichiro’s ranged attack, but he knew better than to leave the corpse alone, drawing his blade out again and taking to strafing around the body. There’s a floral scent in the air, of sakura fresh in bloom despite the autumnal season, and the body rose in a flurry of petals and pink magic, body whole and mind repaired, the sword back in the shinobi’s hand.

“The power of the Dragon’s Blood? Then I will kill you as many times as it takes!”

Will against will, might against dexterity, skill against skill, shinobi’s tools against refined bladework. His heart is pumping and there is blood on the tongue; despite the high stakes, he can’t help but find glee in this battle, and perhaps the shinobi felt the same as well. No longer is his face stoic and still, but instead his brow creased in concentration, and there was a violent fire in his eyes that fueled the warmongering rage in Genichiro…

But he lost to him.

Again.

He coughed up blood and his blade stuck to the floor, sliding back just a bit as he panted for breath and willed his heart to keep beating for him, for Ashina. 

“Impressive, Shinobi of the Divine Heir… But you deserve better.”

He looked up towards the Shinobi, still ready to fight, still ready to kill and die for his lord. “Will you not answer to a different lord?”

“Heresy.”

The quick reaction almost had Genichiro laugh. He’d be disappointed if the shinobi, Wolf was it, answered differently.

“Heresy, you say?” He started as he prepared himself for the coming storm. Layer after layer of armor, his helmet, all stripped away, like freeing himself from the burdens of his heritage. He’d be lying if he denied enjoying this battle against the shinobi. “If it is for the sake of preserving Ashina, I will seize any matter of heretical strength. I will endure any burden.”

Tomoe’s power surged through him. He can feel her teachings in his bones, more natural than the sediment digging into his body, a perfect compliment for his devotion to his nation. Yes. _Yes_.

“Behold, the Lightning of Tomoe.”

Lightning leapt to his blade, which he brandished proudly in front of him. This shinobi, this warrior and swordsman in front of him… surely, he is a worthy opponent!

“You must know that Genichiro is not my first name, not the name I was born with.” Something changed in the shinobi’s face at Genichiro’s confession, then hardened again, but beyond mere determination and tenacity, but something… something they both understand.

_Yes_.

“This duel cannot commence properly if I do not give out my true name. It is…" A sharp inhale. 

"Jugemu Jugemu  
Gokō-no surikire  
Kaijarisuigyo-no  
Suigyōmatsu Unraimatsu Fūraimatsu  
Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro  
Yaburakōji-no burakōji  
Paipopaipo Paipo-no-shūringan  
Shūringan-no Gūrindai  
Gūrindai-no Ponpokopī-no Ponpokonā-no  
Chōkyūmei-no Chōsuke!”

He spoke his name with immeasurable pride filling his chest. It's a name he's remembered since childhood, a name he's repeated to himself millions of times during both his waking hours and his slumbering dreams,,,

And yet the shinobi barked out a laugh! Genichiro bristled at the sheer dishonor of the man’s greatest display of emotion, until he too said his piece with the barest hint of amusement, and what seemed like an inkling of kinship. “I too, was named..." Yet a similar breath, more measured and calmer. 

"Jugemu Jugemu  
Gokō-no surikire  
Kaijarisuigyo-no  
Suigyōmatsu Unraimatsu Fūraimatsu  
Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro  
Yaburakōji-no burakōji  
Paipopaipo Paipo-no-shūringan  
Shūringan-no Gūrindai  
Gūrindai-no Ponpokopī-no Ponpokonā-no  
Chōkyūmei-no Chōsuke.”

Ah. So they really are similar in more ways than how the thrill of the battlefield excites them; the thought brings a smile to Genichiro's face.

His opponent changed his stance once more, and something resembled a smirk appeared on his visage. “Jugemu Jugemu Gokō-no surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyōmatsu Unraimatsu Fūraimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakōji-no burakōji Paipopaipo Paipo-no-shūringan Shūringan-no Gūrindai Gūrindai-no Ponpokopī-no Ponpokonā-no Chōkyūmei-no Chōsuke, I will take back my master.”

Genichiro laughed into the roaring winds and raised his blade. “Very well, then. Come, face me Jugemu Jugemu Gokō-no surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyōmatsu Unraimatsu Fūraimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakōji-no burakōji Paipopaipo Paipo-no-shūringan Shūringan-no Gūrindai Gūrint--”

And then he messed up. 

The pain on his tongue came a second after the taste of blood upon his teeth.

“ _ **FUCK!”**_

**Author's Note:**

> even in a crackfic, Jugemu Jugemu Gokō-no surikire Kaijarisuigyo-no Suigyōmatsu Unraimatsu Fūraimatsu Kuunerutokoro-ni Sumutokoro Yaburakōji-no burakōji Paipopaipo Paipo-no-shūringan Shūringan-no Gūrindai Gūrindai-no Ponpokopī-no Ponpokonā-no Chōkyūmei-no Chōsuke Ashina must remain a loser


End file.
